15. Men At Work - Overkill
Crouching low on a warehouse, glad in my dark workwear, I put a hand on the handle of one of my two machetes, the sharp tool still in its black sheath, and tried to bleed some of the tension out of my system.
Things have been going well, really well, and I didn't want my streak to end on the last outing of the year.
Thanksgiving was coming up and I intended to use 'my holidays' to fly down and visit Claudia and a certain someone for a little bit of quality time.
The Streat Demonz were finished by now, other organizations had smelled the blood in the water and had bitten chunks of the dying animal before I could finish it myself. The return of the Ventriloquist had eventually marked the fiery end for them.
Between smacking the Burnley Town Massive and trimming the East Side Dragons for Tomasso, who hadn't ordered their total annihilation to my displeasure, because he had wanted to send a message and so that he could demand tribute from them, I had extended and modified my deal with the Dockyard Dogs.
They would give me a heads-up and forward the talk of the street to me regarding various dealings in and around the docks in Downtown so that I could swoop in and take it off whoever's hands and deliver it to their various warehouses and businesses.
Money would be exchanged depending on the goods.
I eyed my targets at the end of the concrete dock. The intel by the Dockyard Dogs frighteningly accurate again. They might not have the muscles like some bigger names, although they were gaining quickly, but they just knew what was going on in 'their' territory.
If it weren't for the white van they came with and my trust in the Dog's intel I would have missed them one hundred percent.
Still, I had to make this quick and silent. I have been stepping on the toes of the Triads for quite some time now and only their infighting gave me the hint of a cover.
Speaking of cover, I couldn't see a decent one I could use to sneak up on them. The taller tugboats were moored a few docks further away and this particular dock only moored empty barges on both sides. Even the loading crane was neatly parked near the warehouse I was crouching on, far away from the little motorboat hidden between two barges at the end.
My eyes involuntarily wandered to the steel giant just a stone's throw away. Brown Bridge, spanning the mighty Gotham River and connecting Downtown Gotham with the mainland.
'Fuck it'
I jumped down and sprinted as fast as I could along the edge of the dock on the opposite of the unloading Triad members, intending to get behind the white van and in their only blind spot.
Barely grazing the light cones produced by the lampposts dotted along the way, the gentle waves masking any sound I could potentially make, and my dark clothes were doing the rest.
In no time I was level with the van and angled my inhumanly fast sprint accordingly.
There would be at least four people. One driver, two had hopped out of the back of the van, and who knew how many guys on the little motorboat.
Machete springing free, this was going to be a quick hack and slay.
I rounded the front of the car and took stock of the situation in the matter of heartbeats. The driver, presumably, casually leaning against the side of the van, keeping an eye on the procedures. Two men carrying a medium-sized wooden crate between them towards the back of the van and two more on the boat already heaving up the next crate from the boat onto the dock.
No hesitation, no loss of speed, my blade flashed once and neatly pierced the driver between his rips while I ran past him. Right arm still extended from the thrust towards my left-hand side, I closed in on the two men carrying the crate and forcefully slashed diagonally until my machete was firmly lodged into the neck of the man on my right.
Momentum turning on a dim, the blade came free and I instantly twisted my grip by 180 degrees, just in time for my horizontal slash to end up in the neck of the second man.
My movement turning into a tight spin, the edge sliding cleanly out of the wound, I faced the clearly terrified men on the boat.
Unwilling to pause even for a second, I drew my second machete and leaped towards the boat, blades aimed squarely at their necks.
I easily found my balance on the swaying boat and ignored the two heavy thuds of the toppling corpses.
…'1'…'2'…My mind cleared from all distractions, I still had a job to do and I needed to be quick.
I had no clue what kind of crazies the various Triads had in their ranks currently and I really didn't want to find out, so I suppressed my urge to search the two guys for money in favor of punching a couple of holes into the hull of the boat with my gloved fist.
Hopping back onto the dock I grabbed the crate sitting on the edge and carried it to the back of the van, shoved it inside, and did the same with the crate the two guys had dropped when I had snuffed them out.
Closing the doors, I hurried back to the two guys, grabbed them both by their jackets, and tossed them unceremoniously towards the sinking boat.
'I love super strength.'
Searching the driver fruitlessly for the keys of the van I couldn't help but note the tattoo on his neck.
"Fucking Shan Triad" I muttered under my breath; those assholes had been ramping up their heroin and weapons shipments massively in the last couple of months in order to take on the Ghost Dragons. I had learned to ignore my feelings on the matter entirely and had started to focus primarily on the money. I had priorities and biting off more than I could chew now just wasn't in any of my plans.
Hurrying towards the driver's door I ripped it open and found to my relief the key already sticking in the ignition.
Driver thrown into depths of Gotham River I slid behind the wheel and the small block V8 thankfully rumbled to life without any hiccups.
"I'm here." I put my walkie-talkie back into my pocket when I saw light spill out of an opening garage door some 50 feet down the road. Slowing I turned into the driveway like so many times before and parked inside. The garage already closing behind me.
Giving myself precious few seconds to release some of the accumulated tension I switched the engine off and stepped out of the van. I heard the rear doors open and joined the man in the back.
I eyed the three white tightly wrapped plastic packets with distaste and waited for the man to open the lid of one of the four crates.
Hearing him whoop in joy I couldn't help but purse my lips.
He stepped back out and clapped me good-naturedly on the shoulder, which I didn't appreciate in the slightest.
Things have become too chummy between me and the Dogs lately, and I didn't like it. It was my own damn fault. I had reported to Tomasso what I have been up to and the next thing I know 'we', as in the Panessa, offered the Dogs some deals regarding their new properties and businesses. Forgeries, money laundering and all that jazz.
Tomasso was happy with the money and me, which to my consternation made me slightly happy, and the Dockyard Dogs were happy because they thought being 'partners' with one of the Five Families elevated them or something.
"Nice catch." He admitted before he paused to think.
"Three Thousand." He finally offered with a straight face.
I quietly turned to face him fully, this catch would fulfill my quota for January either way, but I wasn't going to let the guy bullshit me just because I wanted to be done here. There was always some haggling, but today it was crating on my nerves.
"You will give me five thousand, I have seen the packets." I stated resolutely, "And I will stop with the haggling." I offered in return, hoping to wrap things up.
"You have grown so much." My mother breathed into my ear.
I was so incredibly glad this woman would never know just how many conflicting feelings this little embrace welled up in me.
On one hand, I was so incredibly happy to see her still looking radiant and seemingly happy, but on the other hand, I was hesitant to touch her, fearful I would somehow taint her.
She stepped back and clasped my hand with her own, pulling me with a spring in her step towards the parking lot.
"I want you to meet someone." She told me with a giddy smile, and I was in an instant acutely aware of the ring I was feeling around her finger.
Talk about conflicting feelings.